I know some of my posts lately have seemed a little … man-hating. (Can I say one thing? You know something isn’t much of a problem when there isn’t even a Latin-derived word for it. Misphallony. There. I said it.) Anyway, that’s *totally* untrue. I love men. Not all men, sure. But men as a concept? Love ’em. Select, highly refined men? Hells, yeah.

In fact, after an exhaustive search (think “every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse”), I’ve gotten myself a boyfriend NOT made of an amazing space-age material (which happens to feel very much like human skin, by the way). Now, you _know_ I don’t like to brag, but this male humanoid is pretty rad. He’s met the incredible peeing dogs. He’s read the blog. He’s even seen the sex tape I made with Screech from Saved by the Bell back in the day. Still, he agrees to be seen with me in public on a fairly regular basis. He’s cool like that.

So, if posts are a little hit or miss for a while, it’s because we’re busy doing all that raunchy, new relationship stuff you’d expect. I mean, okay, you’ve come to rely on CMG Unite to push the envelope, but nobody wants to read filth like … like two people having brunch, going to see Iron Man or *gasp* meeting each other’s friends.

Don’t worry, my pets. I’ll be back … once we move beyond the freaky shit and return to more normal things like fisting and anal sex.

And it was SOOOO worth it.

• Doing triathlons. I don’t have anything much against endeavors of an athletic nature. In fact, I can offer you nothing in the way of an epistemological explanation for why this is so. And yet, next time you meet someone who does triathlons, 100 to 1 he’s a tool.
• Using the Jack Bauer ringtone on your phone. You’re a bad ass. We get it. If you weren’t so busy with the urgent business of designing data schemas, you’d be busting skulls somewhere on the gritty streets of L.A. Your authentic lightsaber replica says it all.
• Having a vanity license plate. There aren’t an awful lot of things I consider deal-breakers for being part of my in-crowd. Having a vanity license plate is one.
• Following bots with cute profile pics on Twitter. No, she doesn’t really like WoW. She’s not tweeting in a wife beater and hot pants, nor does she wear her hair in pig-tails. Following her won’t make it so.
• Wearing a poncho over street clothes to a Halloween party and calling it a costume. Using your “costume” as an excuse to talk to chicks about the plight of “indigenous cultures.” I mean, ya know, hypothetically, ’cuz this *never* happened to me. Even if I cared about the plight of … anyone, which I don’t, it’s a fucking party, dude. You wanna get in my knickers? Go get me a beer and shut your pie hole already.

Much thanks to @roosto for the inspiration … er, ideas and constructive feedback.